


The Adventures of Iwaizumi & Oikawa

by mermaidrebellion



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Meetings, Inebriated Oikawa, M/M, Mornings, Wedding Dress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidrebellion/pseuds/mermaidrebellion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>IwaOi one shots--mostly AUs because those are my faves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ‘im literally carrying your drunk ass home in my arms and you’re in a glittery wedding dress you DONT own’
> 
> link to the au prompt list I got this from:  
> http://nooowestayandgetcaught.tumblr.com/post/114449697587/a-much-needed-otp-au-prompt-list

At 3 am in the morning, the last thing Iwaizumi wants is a call from Oikawa. Only to hear another man’s voice on the other end telling him to please come and pick up the nuisance. He got there to find Oikawa in an outfit he never thought Oikawa would be caught in dead, a wedding dress complete with a tiara. Iwaizumi can’t tell if he’s attending a wedding or his sweet sixteen.  


When he’d walks in Oikawa rushes for him. He lifts his dress like a princess as he swishes his hips side to side in order to run properly. Except Oikawa can’t get far wearing heels and ends up hurting his ankle. Or as Oikawa cries, “help Iwa-chan my bones shattered and now I’ll never play volley again!!”  


So now Iwaizumi has a 6 foot tall man in his arms as he walks down a street filled with lights strung overhead like fairies in flight. A few people pass by them at this time of night, but they don’t look up. Either preoccupied with their business or too afraid to look up at an angry man carrying a larger man in a wedding dress bridal style.  


Iwaizumi gets halfway home with a drowsy Oikawa mumbling nonsense at him in relative peace until Oikawa starts to get bored.  


“Iwa-chan~” Oikawa drawls, head thrown back.  


Iwaizumi grunts in response, but it only causes Oikawa to call out that damn nickname even louder.  


“Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan. iwA-CHAN.”  


“What,” Iwaizumi finally growls at him. Their breath mingles close together.  


Oikawa pouts, but quickly turns flirtatious; all coy smile and fluttery lashes.  


“Do you think it suits me?”  


Iwaizumi looks back down at his companion.  


Oikawa somehow got into a wedding dress while Iwaizumi had worked extra hours at the office. The dress in question is undoubtedly a wedding dress. A strapless mermaid dress that exposes those broad shoulders. The dress almost softer than Oikawa’s moisturized skin or his silky cinnamon brown hair. It reflects back the streetlights in a sparkly stars kind of way from the glitter dusted near the bottom of the dress. Formal wear gloves adorn his setter’s hands. A teardrop shaped jewel gleams from between Oikawa’s collarbones on a necklace; the chain attracting Iwaizumi’s eyes to Oikawa’s throat, the curve of his neck, how his adam’s apple bobs—  


“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whines loudly, “does it suit me?”  


It knocks Iwaizumi back to the reality of Oikawa. The true Oikawa doesn’t always gleam under the light or feel softer than silks. Sometimes he’s dark as bad blood, the sickly kind that can kill you if you touch it. On occasion, Oikawa shines brighter than the sun reflecting white snow. And much more often, Oikawa’s just a guy who loves to annoy Iwaizumi, like right now.  


Now Iwaizumi’s contemplates. Does the outfit suit Oikawa?  


He looks back toward the sidewalk in front of him, “I think suit is the wrong word. More like it really dresses you up.”  


He says it with such a monotone, disinterested voice that Oikawa almost misses the joke.  


Except, even when obnoxiously drunk, Oikawa has his wits about him. He throws his head back with a snort that becomes laughter. He puts all his strength into the laughter that Iwaizumi teeters Oikawa dangerously in his arms.  


“Asskawa,” Iwaizumi growls, “do you want me to drop you?”  


“Nooo Iwa-chan don’t let go,” Oikawa exclaims childishly as he throws his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck.  


“Then stop throwing your giant body around.”  


Oikawa huffs in offense. Then he starts to pout.  


“I can’t believe you just called me fat in my wedding dress.”  


“Where did you even get the dress, though? I know for a fact you don’t own one, you would have texted me the moment you bought one.”  


Oikawa flicks his head away from Iwaizumi.  


“I don’t text you about everything Hajime. Besides it was a gift.”  


“That does not explain how you put it on.”  


“Why can’t you just enjoy seeing someone as beautiful as me in a wedding dress, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa teases.  


Iwaizumi huffs and replies, “Like hell I’d do that. Your ego is already too huge.”  


“You like me this way though, don’t you Iwa-chan.”  


Oikawa laces his fingers into Iwaizumi’s hair. A small smile plays on his lips.  


A part of Iwaizumi wants to drop Oikawa with that cocky smirk, but the other part sees something in his eyes. The way he’s observing Iwaizumi for his answer. The way he always wants Iwaizumi to reassure him, because deep down Oikawa needs the reassurance.  


So Iwaizumi leans down instead and presses his lips to the corner of Oikawa’s mouth.  


“Don’t ask if you already know the answer, moron.” Iwaizumi mutters with their lips brushing.  


Oikawa inhales shakily. Then he’s pulling Iwaizumi back down and pressing their lips together again.


	2. Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings with Iwaizumi and Oikawa either start with cuddles or a contest, and today it's a contest.

The bedroom air prickles Iwaizumi’s left arm as the comforter slips off him. Oikawa curls it under himself as he rolls onto his stomach. A line of drool slicks from Iwaizumi’s inner elbow and up his bicep as Oikawa uses it as a pillow.  


The chilly air on Iwaizumi’s left arm and the slobbery sensation on his right pull him from his sleep. He squints his eyes against the heaviness of his lids. Oikawa groans when Iwaizumi shifts to lift his head.  


“Iwa-chan, don’t get up,” Oikawa rasps into Iwaizumi’s arm and the comforter.  


“Too bad,” Iwaizumi groans as he props himself up with his left elbow.  


Iwaizumi ruffles Oikawa’s hair, “give me back my arm Oikawa. I want to take a shower.”  


“No,” Oikawa yips.  


Iwaizumi feels Oikawa’s teeth sink into his bicep, hard.  


He makes a noise of pain before smacking the back of Oikawa’s messy bedhead. Oikawa yelps in pain.  


“What the hell, idiot.” Iwaizumi growls.  


“Because Iwa-chan will use all the hot water,” Oikawa muffles into the bed. Iwaizumi’s arm pinned to the sheets under his chin.  


“That’s you, dumbass. Now lemme go.”  


“I wanna shower too.” Oikawa protests, “Carry me, Iwa-chan.”  


Oikawa turns his head and peeks out at Iwaizumi through his wavy hair.  


“No, I don’t want to carry your extra large ass to the bathroom. Besides you’ll just make me bathe you. I’m going alone.”  


Oikawa gasps, “Iwa-chan, you really think my ass is that big?”  


Iwaizumi takes the pillow behind him and slams it over Oikawa’s head with his left hand.  


“Mean, Iwa-chan. Mean,” Oikawa shouts are muffled by the pillow.  


Iwaizumi slips his arm out from Oikawa’s clutches. Oikawa’s arms wrap around Iwaizumi’s waist as Iwaizumi moves to put his feet on the floor.  


“No fair, I wanna shower first.” Oikawa shouts.  


“Well I already said I was going, so wait your turn.”  


Iwaizumi can feel the first signs of a headache coming. He uses all his strength to swing his legs off the bed. Oikawa curls around Iwaizumi’s waist as he sits at the edge of the bed. As Iwaizumi tries to stand, Oikawa reaches up to grip Iwaizumi’s shoulders. Oikawa pulls himself up and wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck.  


“Iwa-chan, no,” Oikawa protests.  


Iwaizumi growls as he forces himself to his feet. Oikawa’s dead weight rises with him. Oikawa’s lower body thumps against the ground as Iwaizumi moves toward the bathroom.  


Oikawa whines, “Iwa-chan, you made me hit my feet on the floor hard. I’ll get carpet burn.”  


“Really? Then let go, idiot.”  


Iwaizumi tries to shake Oikawa’s arms off, but it only causes Oikawa to lift his legs to wrap them around Iwaizumi’s waist.  


Oikawa throws his weight back, causing Iwaizumi to fall on top of him on the bed.  


“I’m going to shower first, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purrs into Iwaizumi’s ear before flipping their positions. He rises off Iwaizumi with a wink before bouncing off toward the bathroom.  


Now usually mornings mean Iwaizumi will give in to Oikawa, except when he challenges him. Iwaizumi hates to lose, especially to Oikawa.  


As Oikawa leisurely walks to the bathroom, Iwaizumi comes up behind him and headlocks him.  


“Ack!” Oikawa squawks, “Iwa-chan, let go you brute! My head will pop off.”  


Oikawa falls to his knees from being bent so forcefully.  


“Oh no, then what will your adoring fans like about you?” Iwaizumi mocks.  


“Ha,” Oikawa exclaims, “I still have my hot bod.”  


Iwaizumi actually laughs at that before releasing Oikawa and rushing for the bathroom.  


Oikawa yanks on Iwaizumi’s leg, causing him to stumble. It slows Iwaizumi enough for Oikawa to get up and jump onto his back.  


“Get off me, idiot,” Iwaizumi grunts from the impact.  


“No,” Oikawa whines in petulance, “I wanna shower too.”  


“Too bad, I called it first,” Iwaizumi reaches the bathroom doorway, but Oikawa sticks his feet out to brace against the doorframe.  


Iwaizumi grips the inside of the doorway, while attempingt to shake off Oikawa.  


“Fine,” Iwaizumi gives in, “Let’s just shower together.”  


“Yay,” Oikawa shouts followed by him removing his feet from the door frame.  


“Onward, Iwa-chan!”  


Iwaizumi grumbles, “Yeah, yeah.”


	3. When We Meet

The wind blew strong enough to pull the trees slightly to its will, but not strong enough to stop Iwaizumi Hajime from climbing higher and higher. He knew the kids hidden from view were giggling at him. He thought they wanted to see him fall. In reality, they just thought he was cool.  


Hajime didn’t really care for groups one way or another. He hung out with other kids yes. He had many friends, but mostly he liked to spend his time on his own, hunting, climbing, swimming, or adventuring in the places none of the others would care to go. They liked their games of cops and robbers, house, and hopscotch. Hajime liked them too, but he preferred making it up as he went. In some ways he may have been looking for something amazing.  


That mild windy day blew Hajime something amazing.  


It’s a small town, so Hajime knows every kid his age and some older or younger. They all play together at the park not far from the wooded area where Hajime catches bugs. As he walks back to the park, thinking how to sneak the beetle past his mom and into his bedroom he heard the sounds of soft crying and an even louder, larger laughter overpowering the cries.  


As Hajime moves out from the foliage, he sees a group of boys. The closer he gets, the clearer it becomes. A younger boy falls to his knees, scrunching his fists to rub at his eyes with his shoulders hunched over. His shoulders shake with the sobs. The sound of his tears are so soft it almost makes it louder than the wind, the laughter, or the whispers of the other kids their age watching as this smaller boy gets picked on.  


Hajime’s never seen this boy before. He’s tiny; all elbows and knees.  


A heat boils deep in Hajime’s gut when he watches one of the bigger kids kick one of the small boy’s hands away from his eyes. The smaller boy lurches from the kick, yelping at the sudden hit. Before he can even think about the consequences or possibility of a fight, Hajime takes off running at them. His feet hitting the ground and flying up so fast, he can hear and feel the dirt and cherry blossoms flying up in the air behind him as he breaks into a run.  


The boy crying in the dirt, Oikawa Tooru, peeks up from beneath his curls as he hears the shout of a boy. He wonders if it’s another one of their friends here to join the torment. But when his eyes land on the rushing boy, he feels the world slow.  


A deeply tanned boy with scatters of freckles is rushing toward him with his mouth wide in a battle cry. All of the boy’s hair sticking up so wildly as he sways side to side with the effort to run as fast as possible. Every time the boy’s feet hit the ground, it’s like Tooru can feel the impact rippling through the earth to let him know this boy was on his side.  


It’s as if the wind rushes behind Hajime, just to help him reach the boy he’ll soon know as Tooru Oikawa. Maybe the wind forms from the efforts of Hajime’s determination and courage. All they know is that it feels as if the wind wants Hajime to get to Tooru as fast as possible.  


The petals and dust mix into the air, a storm that will forever make Tooru think of Hajime.  


“Leave him alone,” Hajime shouts from the top of his lungs, extending the last word as he dips down to pick up a small rock before hurling it at the group of boys.  


The rock skims close to one of the boys—the boy who just happened to be the one who started the bullying; enough for him to remember you don’t fight Iwaizumi Hajime if you don't want every adult in the neighborhood hear horrible stories about you from the other kids who all love Hajime. You don’t fight Iwaizumi Hajime because you can’t beat someone who doesn’t know when to quit.  


They take off out of the playground, their shouts carried away by the wind.  


Hajime slows down his pace, trying to ease out of all the momentum. He halts just before the smaller boy. The brown haired kid peeks up at him through a curly fringe as he sniffles. Hajime kneels down to eye level. Tooru stares at Hajime in wonder, it makes him forget to pay attention.  


Then a nudge knocks him out of his reverie.  


“Hey, are you hurt bad?” Hajime scowls at him, more with concern than anger.  


Oikawa blinks away his last few tears before shaking his head roughly.  


Hajime sighs in relief, “good because I don’t have any band aids and I don’t know how to make a cast.”  


Oikawa flinches back at the silly remark. The look on the other boy’s face clearly tells him, the kid isn’t joking.  


Laughter bubbles out of Tooru’s sore throat, it’s a raspy and wet noise.  


But to Hajime the sound is music. It’s the sound of fast moving rivers. It lets him know that this boy really is okay.  


“What’s so funny?” Hajime’s brows crinkle in confusion.  


Tooru sits up taller as the laughter tenses his muscles to force him back into his normal posture.  


“Because you’re silly.” The brown haired boy manages to giggle out.  


Hajime lets the boy catch his breath before asking his next question.  


“I’m Iwaizumi, What’s your name?” Hajime asks while stretching out a hand for him to take.  


“Oikawa Tooru,” the boy replies. He wipes his nose with the back of one hand. The other he places into the Hajime's hand.  


“ Oh, Oikawa. I’ve seen your house’s nameplate. You live on the same street as me. I’ll walk with you home.”  


Hajime doesn’t let go of Oikawa’s hand because he doesn’t want the boy to have a chance to say no. Oikawa’s eyes widen in surprise, as Iwaizumi’s back stands tall, walking them out of the park.  


Oikawa perks up, “you don’t need to walk me home, Iwa—“  


Oikawa’s voice falters, rising higher as he tries to speak with as much cheer as he can muster. But it’s obvious to them both that Oikawa is not okay. Iwaizumi halts for a moment. The wet tone of Oikawa’s voice falls silent, trying to compose himself.  


“I—Iwa-chan,” Oikawa stutters out, his voice slowly gaining that façade he’s used to putting on for his parents. The shakiness slowly disappears with the more he talks, “I’m already fine. Their punches didn’t even hurt. I was just crying because I didn’t want to have to deal with a broken arm by fighting back. Not everyone wants to—“  


“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi interrupts sharply, but not with venom. It’s more like determination.  


“Huh?” Oikawa breathes softly.  


Iwaizumi grips Oikawa’s trembling hand tighter.  


“You don't have to pretend. I know it’s scary. It’s okay to cry when you get hurt.”  


Oikawa remains quiet and shocked. The sounds of their feet crunch against the loose gravel of the uplifted street. Oikawa’s hand stops shaking in Iwaizumi’s and tears take their place. All that fear and pain finally flow out properly as the tears leak from his heart.  


Oikawa cries like that the whole way home. When Mrs. Oikawa walks out, fearing her son has come home again with scrapes and bruises from a new group of cruel kids; afraid he wasn’t able to fit in yet again. She walks out to expect a lonely Tooru shaking and sobbing with hunched shoulders and lonely clenched hands. Instead she sees her son’s hand tightly clenched in the hand of another boy, leading Tooru up to his front door. A boy who keeps his glance on Oikawa, but keeps his head turned away.  


For once her son doesn’t run into her arms crying over how mean the other kids are. This time he’s crying and someone is holding his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I might add more drabbles to this in time. They'll all be iwaoi...probably (idk I might change my mind).  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Also the title is dumb and it will be changed frequently because I'm indecisive and unsatisfied.


End file.
